Bethany
by MonkeyPajamas
Summary: Kurt, his daughter, and Mayfair.


Author's Note: I took your idea **inmyblindspot** and ran with it. Hope you don't mind. So, I don't own _Blindspot_ , I don't own the characters, I don't even own the idea. But I sure had fun writing this.

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It was a cool, fall morning, the air still misty as they walked up. Even Bethany was quiet, the normally chatty little girl sensing that something was different about this place.

Kurt held his daughter's hand tighter and tighter as they went further into the cemetery. He couldn't help but think how long it had been. He used to try and visit every few months – maybe put some flowers down, sometimes just to remind himself. But now he couldn't remember the last time he was there. Life had gotten busy, and time passed. Even still, the rows were so familiar as if he'd visited just yesterday.

"Here it is, Bethany," he knelt down in front of the gravestone, brushing away the leaves that now covered the ground. His breath caught in his throat as he tried to find the words. He never planned for this. Not when he suggested the name to Allie all those years ago. Not even when he proposed this trip out to the cemetery. What would he say? What could he say? How could he explain to his daughter why he had chosen that name? How important Bethany Mayfair was to him? Why Mayfair – who his daughter had never met and who had never met her – would still be so proud of the girl she was?

"This is Bethany Mayfair. She was daddy's friend," he started, trying to clear his throat.

Bethany reached out, gently running her fingers over the engraved name. "How did she die?" Bethany looked at her dad curiously.

"She uh," Kurt paused. He knew his daughter understood the risks associated with her parents' jobs. She'd visited all of them in the hospital at some point – getting shot, fallen, bombs; the risks were inherent with their jobs and she knew it. But so far they'd always survived. But Mayfair hadn't. "A bad person hurt her."

"And she died?"

"Yeah, yeah sweetheart, she did," Kurt reached out, bringing his daughter to his knee. She was too young to understand death, and he was grateful for that. She hadn't yet lost anyone she loved. Not even a pet – the dog had come close, but thankfully surgery and medicine had worked.

"I'm sorry your friend died, daddy," Bethany hugged her father closer. She kept her eyes on the gravestone. BETHANY. She'd never met another Bethany. There was Ms. Beth down the street who always gave her cookies – but when Bethany proclaimed excitedly that they had the same name, Ms. Beth told her that her name was short for Elizabeth, not Bethany.

"I am, too." Kurt closed his eyes, holding his daughter close. Taking a deep breath, he continued. "But then we found out about you – that you were inside mommy, and would be born soon.

"And I was a surprise because Mommy loved Connor and you loved Jane," Bethany continued the well-known story. She never questioned growing up with four parents, but when her siblings were born, she wanted to know more about her own story.

Kurt laughed, a true laugh that sounded strange in stillness of the cemetery. "Exactly. But we found out you were inside mommy's tummy, and we loved you so so much. But we needed a name for you. We couldn't call you 'Peanut' forever."

"And so you named me Bethany," Bethany glanced at the gravestone again, seeing the name that was so familiar for her, that she'd long ago claimed as her own.

"Yep. Mommy and I were both sad when Mayfair died," Kurt was careful not to say 'Bethany died' for fear that would be what his daughter remembered. "Because she was such a good friend. But then we thought about naming you Bethany, and that made us happy again."

Bethany was silent for a moment as she stared at the gravestone. "Daddy?"

"Yes sweetheart?"

"Do you think your friend would like me?" Her voice was small, and the little girl looked downward, afraid to look at her father, that somehow he would be disappointed in her.

"She'd love you," Kurt declared without hesitation. He turned his daughter to face him, and gently lifted her chin so she could see his face. "She'd love how strong you are. How sweet you are to your little brother and sister. She'd be so proud to know how you help your friends at school, and how you got the citizenship award last month. She'd love your smile, your laugh, and your hugs. She'd be proud of how you love to read, and that you got an A on your math test." Kurt looked into his daughter's eyes. "She'd love everything about you sweetheart."

Bethany's smile lit up her face. She turned to face the gravestone once again, reaching out to touch the name. "Daddy, I'm glad my name is Bethany, too."

"So am I, sweet girl," Kurt hugged his daughter from behind, watching her tracing the letters. "So am I."


End file.
